


Anchor

by composingofburlesquee



Category: Panic! at the Disco
Genre: Claustrophobia, Fluff, Implied drinking, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 03:52:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8356006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/composingofburlesquee/pseuds/composingofburlesquee
Summary: Brendon remembered a pretty barista approaching him in his corner. A pretty barista with soft hair and skinny jeans and a button down shirt with a floral scarf. A pretty barista with hazel eyes and a nice smile and - sweet Jesus.
Brendon was on his phone, frantically texting Spencer for advice on how to ‘avoid being too gay’, and Spencer was not delivering. Oh well.





	

_“Yeah. Never a quiet night.”_   
Noise. Color. Movement. Skin.  
 _“You get used to it. Look, the windows are open! You can see the sky.”_   
Sky. Night. Still. Anchor.   
_“Hey, want my scarf? You look cold.”_  
Chill. Wind. Air. Breath.   
_“You don’t look so good. Lean on me for a minute.”_  
Touch. Warm. Dark. Gone.  
*  
It was Sunday morning. 

Brendon woke up at home, fully clothed on his bed, with no recollection of the night before.

Well, he remembered some things. Flashes. Snapshots, if you will. He remembered that Spencer dragged him to a packed bar for drinks and music. He remembered becoming overwhelmed with the burn of alcohol and the incessant noise and the brush of skin at every turn. He remembered a pretty barista approaching him in his corner. A pretty barista with soft hair and skinny jeans and a button down shirt with a floral scarf. A pretty barista with hazel eyes and a nice smile and - sweet Jesus. Brendon prayed to any spirits out there that he hadn’t done anything stupid in front of the guy. 

His head pounded. There was a glass of water next to his bed along with his wallet and… a slip of paper. 

Brendon reached over to grab the scrap, heart pounding in rhythm with his head. It read: 

_‘Hey Brendon, this is Ryan, the barista you met in the corner of a bar last night. Anyways, you passed out and (who I assume was) your friend Spencer found us and took you home. My number’s on the back - text me if you got back alright! Maybe I’m worried, maybe I just want my scarf back. Haha just kidding you can keep it. You looked way better in it anyway =)  
Ryan Ross x’_

Wow. 

Brendon just got a cute guy’s number.   
_A cute guy who’s probably not interested,_ Brendon reminded himself. Still, he plugged the number into his phone, created a contact for “Ryan Ross”, and got out of bed without actually sending a text. 

He got dressed slowly (so not to worsen his raging headache), stepped into the kitchen of his and Spencer’s apartment, and poured himself a bowl of Cheerios. 

The door opened. 

“Wow,” the voice in the doorway snorted. “You look like shit.”

Brendon groaned. 

“Spencer, please. Let me enjoy my cereal without the verbal abuse. It’s too early.” 

“Brendon, buddy, it’s almost noon,” Spencer laughed. “I guess you passed out pretty hard last night. Good thing that barista was there.” 

“Yeah, good thing.” Brendon sighed. He still hadn’t texted Ryan, and should probably do that after Spencer left. 

“Anyways, I’m going to Jon’s. Behave yourself.” Spencer commanded, narrowing his eyes.

Brendon stood up to put the milk back in the fridge. 

“Yeah, whatever.”   
*  
 **Brendon: hey, is this ryan? im brendon, the probably super annoying guy that you found in a corner last night. sorry about that.**   
_Ryan Ross: Yeah, good to hear from you! I’m guessing that you got back alright.  
Ryan Ross: Either way, you were most certainly not annoying. You just looked like you were having a serious panic attack - or maybe you were just really cold. Uhhh hope you’re feeling better? _  
**Brendon: happy to say that i did not have a heart attack last night!  
Brendon: so do you want me to drop off your scarf somewhere? or you could come pick it up? i don’t know man im not good at this whole socializing thing**   
_Ryan Ross: Me neither, don’t worry. This is my “responsible and organized adult” persona. I hope it’s working.  
Ryan Ross: If it’s alright with you, could I come over to yours? My roommate threw a party last night and our apartment is in shambles. _   
**Brendon: works for me. my address is xxx XXXX XXXX. if you’re free now you could come on over**   
_Ryan Ross: Sweet, I’ll be over in a few._  
*

There was a knock at the door.

Brendon was on his phone, frantically texting Spencer for advice on how to ‘avoid being too gay’, and Spencer was not delivering. Oh well. 

He stood up, stretched, and opened the door to Ryan Ross, who was certainly more attractive than Brendon remembered. Shit, he was screwed. Still, Brendon put on an affable smile to match Ryan’s soft one. 

_This is_ so _not fair,_ Brendon thought.

“Hey! Do you wanna come in?” Brendon asked, motioning through the door. 

“Yeah, thanks!” Ryan stepped over the threshold into the apartment delicately. Brendon reached for the scarf draped over one of the chairs and offered it to Ryan. He smiled at Brendon again, grabbing the scarf and unless it was Brendon’s imagination, let his hands linger on Brendon’s for just a second longer than what would be considered socially acceptable. 

_Nice._

“So,” Ryan started, giving Brendon a discreet once over. “I’m guessing crowded places aren’t really your thing.” 

Brendon shook his head vigorously. 

“No way, I mainly just went for Spencer,” Brendon sighed, smiling fondly. “He always says I should get out more, but it usually ends in misery. Do you want to sit down? 

Ryan obliged, hesitantly seating himself on the edge of the couch. 

“So Brendon, you talked a lot about the sky last night,” Ryan said, propping his chin on his palm. “You an astronomer or something?” 

Brendon laughed nervously. 

“Not really, I just hate being completely surrounded by people or things,” Brendon glanced down. “I’m not sure if it’s claustrophobia or something, but I don’t feel safe when I’m not surrounded by sky. Air.” 

Ryan hummed in what Brendon assumed was either agreement or prompting him to go on. He took a deep breath. 

“When you’re in the open, you can never have enough sky. You can run and move and fidget and go as far as you want but you’ll still be enveloped in… sky. And it’s not breathing anyone else’s air, not being constrained by body heat and skin and touch and…” Brendon paused. “I’m rambling, I’m sorry.” 

“No, it’s alright. I get what you’re feeling. And you did seem to relax when you realized the windows were open last night,” Ryan chuckled, but not in a mocking way. It was shiny and clear like raindrops on tin. “It was pretty cute.” 

Brendan felt his face grow hot. He could feel the roses blooming on his cheeks, and he didn’t like the fluttery feeling of color (or maybe it was clouds) in his gut. 

Ryan cleared his throat. “Sorry. I should probably get going, I don’t want to bother you-” 

“No, really, it’s fine!” Brendon blurted, blushing harder. He twisted his finger in a rip in his jeans. “Or, you know, if you want to leave, that’s-”

“No, I just didn’t want to-”

“I’m not very interesting, you probably don’t want to talk to me-”

Ryan put his hands on his hips, exhaling air from his nose.   
“From what I’ve heard so far, you’re a pretty interesting person, and not in a bad way. Like- wait,” Ryan stopped abruptly. “Do you have a girlfriend?” 

 

Brendon furrowed his eyebrows. “No?” 

“Boyfriend?” 

Brendon paused for a millisecond.   
“Not at the moment.” He responded. 

“Well, would you like to go out sometime?” Ryan asked, hooking his thumbs through the loops of his skinny jeans. 

Woah. 

This was new. 

A million thoughts ran through Brendon’s head, weighing pros and cons and what would Spencer think? And would Ryan change his mind about Brendon after learning more about him? And- 

“I’m really sorry, forget I asked,” Ryan muttered awkwardly. “I’ll just-” 

“No, wait!” Brendon said hastily, fighting the urge to slap himself. “Yes! I would love to! I just don’t think you’d really want to date me and-”

“Hold up,” Ryan interrupted. “That’s… a yes to the date?” 

Brendan exhaled. “Honestly, this entire conversation has been a rollercoaster of emotions and I’m-” 

 

In a blur of motion, it happened.

_Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmy_

Soft lips met his. A cold hand curled around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. Ryan was still holding the scarf, and it fell to the ground in a soft pile as he brought it up to Brendon’s cheek. Brendon wrapped his arms around Ryan’s waist, standing on his toes to return some pressure. Ryan tilted his head just a bit and-

_Yes. Perfect._

His tongue dragged across Brendon’s lip, fingers trailing down his cheek to his neck, rubbing circles of warm colors into the skin. Brendon opened his mouth and the world stopped spinning, leaving Brendon dizzy.

Dizzy as Ryan brought him closer still, separating for barely a second to breathe before dipping back in, slipping his tongue into Brendon’s mouth, not forcefully. Languid. Upside-down and backward. Still, the night was kind. 

For once, Brendon didn’t need the sky.


End file.
